Night Realm

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Night Realm Page 17

by Darren G. Burton


  When the phone was answered by Reception, he said, “Hello. I’d like to make an appointment to see Doctor Marlon Becker, please.”

  “I’m sorry, Doctor Becker doesn’t take appointments,” came the curt reply from a woman who sounded like she was in her fifties.

  “But he is working there at the moment?” Ryan probed.

  “Yes, he is. He’s here doing research. But he’s not a physician, you know. He doesn’t see patients.”

  “I’m not a patient. I’m a med student interested in learning more about his work.” Ryan was just winging it at the moment. “I’m a huge fan of his.”

  “Well, in that case you would need to send him an email, at which time he will get back to you of his own accord. But I warn you, he’s extremely busy and rarely gives anyone an audience.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Ryan hung up.

  Well, that was useless, he thought. An email. Hmm. How long would he have to wait for a reply on that? Not an option.

  Maybe he didn’t need to meet face to face with Becker anyway? Maybe all he needed to do was get inside his office for a looksee?

  But how?

  He didn’t imagine he could just wander freely about the Institute. And even if he got inside, would Becker’s office be accessible?

  Ryan had a few ideas formulating in his mind, but what he really needed to do was team up with a useful friend he had down here in Melbourne, someone who was adept at gaining access to restricted areas. He made a call and arranged a meeting at Southgate for six o’clock.

  * * *

  Marks never went home last night. Just something about hanging out in an empty house didn’t appeal to him right now, so he’d stayed at his office overnight and got a few hours sleep on a small couch he had tucked away in a corner.

  He’d awoken early and spent a few hours listening to the various interviews and conversations he had stored on his voice recorder. He also went over all the paperwork and details pertaining to the two murder cases.

  At least it all took his mind off Linda and his seemingly-failed marriage.

  He had a coffee in front of him and he took a sip. Having finished with his perusal of all the case materials, his mind was now lingering on his wife. He knew, deep down, that it was over between them. Really it had been for some time. Neither of them had wanted to admit it and do something about it, though. Until now.

  How come it was almost invariably the woman that made the first move towards a break up? he wondered. The detective in him didn’t have the answer to that question. Matters of the heart weren’t his forte. When it came to figuring out how relationships worked and how to be a good husband, he felt he was all at sea, drifting about like a rudderless ship.

  Marks slowly shook his head, then ran a hand over the smooth skin of his bald scalp. As per habit he toyed with his goatee as he rued the fact that his eight year marriage was washed up. He absently sipped some coffee and let his tired mind wander wherever it wanted to go.

  The phone rang and snapped him out of it.

  “Hello? Detective Marks.”

  It was Scott Richards from CSU. “All test results on Toby Matthews were normal,” he reported. “Sorry I don’t have anything more useful for you, David.”

  “That’s okay. Thanks for the update, Scott.”

  No sooner had Marks hung up the phone and a fax came through from QHSS. It was the results of evidence gathered by the SOCOs at the Toby Matthews crime scene. Marks wasn’t expecting much, given the fact that the rain had washed any superficial evidence away. As he read the document his presumptions proved correct.

  Damn!” he spat and tossed the fax onto the floor.

  He was getting frustrated. These cases and his personal life were both going nowhere at the same time. Things sucked right now and he needed to get out and clear his head.

  Marks left his office and decided to go for a long drive. He didn’t care where he went. Anywhere would do.

  * * *

  It was just starting to rain lightly as Ryan left the hotel and walked south through the streets of Melbourne’s CBD. Southgate wasn’t far, only about three city blocks and then a crossover of the Yarra River via a pedestrian bridge. Although the scene was gloomy, it would still be daylight for about another hour.

  Southgate was a complex of shops, restaurants, cafes and bars that overlooked the river. Being a Tuesday evening the place wasn’t particularly busy. Thankfully the rain had remained very light and Ryan was only a little damp by the time he arrived. He found his friend waiting for him at a downstairs bar. He was seated at a long bench, on a stool in the corner. In front of him were two bourbons, one of which was awaiting Ryan’s arrival.

  Jack Jones was often the subject of good-natured ridicule because of the commonness of his name. He always took it in his stride, as he did with most things. Ryan knew him from the Gold Coast, where Jack had lived until recently. He was somewhere around thirty with dark brown hair that always looked a little unkempt; especially around the ears and the fringe. Jack was fairly short and Ryan towered over him by at least six inches. What he lacked in height he made up for in muscle, though. He was built like a Pit Bull, with barely an ounce of fat on his body. However, it wasn’t his brawn that Ryan required, it was his brain and expertise. While not a criminal in the strict sense of the word, Jack had an uncanny ability to be able to break into things and gain access to places people were not supposed to be able to gain access to.

  The pair shook hands just as the drizzle turned into a torrential downpour. There was an overhang above them and a neatly-trimmed hedge dividing the bar from the footpath. For the most part, just so long as the wind didn’t change direction, they were out of the rain. There was the odd bit of overspray that came in, but nothing to be concerned about.

  “Long time no see,” Ryan said as he took a seat. Jack slid the bourbon in front of him and Ryan immediately took a long sip. It was ice cold and the perfect balance of bourbon and Coke.

  “So, what brings you to Melbourne?” Jack asked. He glanced out at the rain. “The weather?”

  “Hardly.”

  Ryan filled him in, giving him only the bare essentials in details. No reason for Jack to know more than he had to. Not that Ryan knew that much about it himself.

  When Ryan was finished, Jack lit a cigarette and offered him one. Ryan hesitated a moment. He hadn’t smoked a cigarette for about five days now and was doing well. However, there was always something to be said for sharing a vice with a colleague. Somehow it helped maintain trust and a rapport, so he accepted. Jack lit it for him and Ryan just let it smolder between his fingers for the time being.

  “So,” Jack said. He inhaled on his cigarette and blew smoke out into the rain. “You don’t even really know what you’re looking for exactly.”

  “No,” Ryan admitted and finally took a drag on his smoke. It tasted like charcoal in his mouth, but he still enjoyed it.

  “Even if we manage to get you inside, how do you know you’ve found what you’re supposed to find?” Jack wanted to know. He took a sip of his drink and eyed Ryan expectantly.

  Ryan shrugged. “I don’t think my client even knows exactly what she wants me to find. For some reason she’s very interested in this scientist’s latest research on blood disorders. Or recent research. I guess I just collect what I can and hope it’s enough.” He drew on the cigarette again and started to get head spins. “I’m just winging it on this one. If what I get is not enough, then I guess I’ll be coming back for more.”

  “I can get you access,” Jack assured him. “But you know I don’t come cheap.”

  Ryan nodded. “I have money. My client is making sure I can cover whatever expenses are necessary to get the job done.”

  Jack frowned. “I wonder why your client could possibly want to gather research on blood disorders? Seems like a weird topic of interest. Unless she has a disease, or knows someone who has a disease, that she hopes to cure. Sounds like she can afford it, going by you.” He stabbed out his ciga
rette in an ashtray and immediately lit another. He nodded at the pack. “Help yourself whenever you want.”

  More bourbons were ordered and Ryan smoked a second cigarette. The rain continued to hammer down on the pavement outside the bar. The inclement weather rendered the cityscape solid grey, the monotony broken only by the yellowish, murky glow of lights that now burned in the buildings as night fell. They ordered some bar snacks, Ryan desperately needing something in his stomach as he was starting to feel seedy from drinking and smoking with no food.

  “I’ll work this all out tonight,” Jack said and stuffed a potato wedge smothered in sour cream into his mouth. He chewed away happily and washed it down with more bourbon. “I’ll call you tomorrow morning sometime and we’ll meet up and go over the plan.”

  “Sounds good,” Ryan said with a nod and lit his third smoke.

  “But I’ll need my fee transferred into this account tonight.” Jack scribbled his bank details on the back of a coaster and handed it to Ryan. “And tomorrow we’ll get your client what she wants.”

  Twenty Six

  Selena Thorne paced the floor of the living room. Michael sat in a chair, watching his older sister with interest. The specially-fitted blinds that kept out the daylight had been raised now that night had fallen over their Guanaba home.

  “You have to get rid of them,” she said, her tone icy.

  “No!” he snapped. “They’re mine!”

  Selena stopped pacing and fixed Michael with a hard stare. “I’ve told you before. No pets. The more of us there are, the harder it will be to stay under the radar.”

  He smirked. “Is that why you insist on running a night club?” he scoffed. “To stay under the radar? That gig doesn’t exactly keep you out of the spotlight.”

  “It helps me to feel normal.”

  “And feeding on humans does that for me,” he retorted.

  Selena stood in front of him, hands on hips. “And look where that’s got you. Now you’re forced to hide out because you have the police on your tail. Your behaviour threatens to bring us all down.”

  “You can’t keep telling me what to do, Selena.”

  “Yes, I can. I’m older than you.”

  “So what? You’re not my boss. Jeez, Sis, you’ve gotten so boring lately. We used to go hunting together.”

  “That was a long time ago, Michael. Things have changed. I want a more normal life now, a peaceful existence. Can’t you understand that?”

  “Actually, no. I can’t. You are a vampire, or have you forgotten that significant little fact?”

  She lifted her head high and proud. “I haven’t forgotten, but I’m not like you.”

  Michael grinned, his eyes burning with an intense fire. “That’s right. You’re not like me. So far I’ve only listened to you out of respect for my older sibling, but things are changing, big sister. I’m growing bored with your ways. I’m looking for excitement. A rush. After all, what’s the point in having all these wonderful powers if I’m not going to take full advantage of them?”

  “I know how powerful you are, Michael,” Selena conceded. “You have more gifts than Travis or myself. But I’m not afraid of you and I never will be.”

  Michael leaped out of his seat, blood red burning in his eyes now, replacing the stark blue. He moved up close to his sister until his face was only inches from hers. The pair were virtually the same height and were glaring at each other eye to eye.

  “Well, maybe you should be afraid of me. I can take you down any time I want to,” he challenged.

  “Don’t be so sure of that.” Selena’s gaze didn’t falter. Her black eyes burned into her brother’s until the red vanished from them and they’d returned to their usual intense blue colour. “You may have more strength and power than me, you may be able to fly, but my mind will always be stronger than yours.” She poked a gloved finger into his chest with such strength that he staggered back a pace. “That’s why I lead and always will.” She raised her head high again.

  “Your days just might be numbered, Sis,” Michael threatened, his voice taking on a low and deeper tone.

  Selena shrugged that last comment off. She had to leave for work. She pointed at the floor. “Get rid of those two down there. We can’t have them here.”

  * * *

  Emma rang while Chelsea and Travis were driving south along the M1.

  “You wanna catch up tonight?” Emma asked.

  “Maybe later,” Chelsea said, sounding noncommittal. “I’m with Travis right now. We’re just going for a drive.”

  “O...kay,” Emma said slowly. “Sounds like things must be going well between you two. We’ll have to get together and you can tell me all about it.”

  “Sure. I’ll call you later.”

  Chelsea hung up and tossed her mobile into the back seat. Right now she was feeling carefree with the wind in her hair and her unique man behind the wheel. She didn’t care about much else and wasn’t in any hurry to ditch Travis and meet up with her best friend. After all, this was new and exciting. She could see Emma anytime.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked Travis.

  “I don’t know. I’m just driving wherever.”

  “Do you mind if I smoke in your car?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t care. Go for it.” When he saw her struggling to light her cigarette with the wind billowing around them, he added, “If you can get the thing lit.”

  After much frustration, Chelsea managed to light her smoke after bending forward in her seat. She exhaled smoke into the night and smiled. She felt like she was high on something, but she wasn’t. Just life. It was the most buoyant feeling she’d experienced since before her parents died.

  Fuck Ryan, fuck Emma and fuck the rest of the world! She was about to embark on a new life and she didn’t need anyone but Travis.

  Twenty minutes later they ascended a hill and ended up at Point Danger. It was a grassy headland with footpaths and lookouts that had fantastic views of the ocean. Travis brought the car to a stop right at the edge so they had an uninterrupted view of the water. It was dark, but Chelsea could still see the waves crashing against the rocks down below, and the sound of the surf reached her ears. There was a light breeze that was enough to keep the night air pleasant. A few other cars were parked about the place, but not many of them. Light poles were positioned here and there along the pathways, casting a subtle glow to see by without being overpowering.

  Chelsea lit another cigarette and got out of the car. She walked over and leaned against the railing of a lookout. Travis joined her and slipped an arm around her shoulders.

  “It’s a beautiful night,” she commented idly as she smoked and took in the view.

  “The night’s not the only thing that’s beautiful,” Travis said, offering her one of his most charming smiles. She returned the smile, but at the same time her expression was dubious. “You’re right,” he said. “That sounded a bit lame.”

  “But I liked it anyway,” she assured him. “You always say and do the right things, Travis.”

  The breeze picked up and she shivered a little. It made her think of something.

  “Do you feel the cold or the heat?” she asked him.

  “I do, but not really. If that makes any sense.”

  “You mean you sense the temperature, but you’re neither uncomfortable whether it’s cold or hot?”

  He nodded. “That’s pretty spot on.”

  “So.” She faced him. “Are you ready to bite me and turn me yet?”

  “No. You haven’t really made up your mind.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I can tell.”

  “By reading my mind?”

  “No. I said I wouldn’t do that again.”

  “Then how do you know I’m not ready?”

  “My instincts tell me you’re not. Trust me, when you’re really, truly ready, I’ll know.”

  “Okay.” Chelsea flicked her cigarette down the cliff and watched it float all the way t
o the rocks below. “If you won’t turn me tonight, will you be willing to tell me how you became a vampire?”

  Travis pondered that request long and hard. Eventually he nodded.

  “There’s not that much to tell,” he said. “But I guess it’s only natural that you want to know. After all, you are my girlfriend.”

  Chelsea was stunned by that last admission. “Am I?”

  “If you want to be.”

  “Yeah,” she said eagerly.

  She kissed him and used her tongue for the first time with him. Travis reciprocated and it took her a moment to get used to his tongue being so cold. It was an unusual sensation to say the least, but somehow she really liked it. She was a bit weird, she knew, and always was attracted to people and things that were different.

  “That was nice,” he whispered when the kiss finally ended.

  “Yep.” Chelsea smiled and drew her pack of cigarettes from her pocket. She lit one and said to Travis, “You were about to tell me a story. Remember?”

  “Okay. It happened about ten years ago when we were living in Melbourne. We were out on a camping trip with our parents north-west of the city. I was going to uni at the time, Selena was managing a popular night club and Michael was busy spending our parent’s money living the lifestyle of rich kid and playboy. Nothing much has changed, really.

  “Our parents made a lot of money from some very successful investments in Australia and overseas. All during the tech boom. They retired on the money and shared a lot of it between us kids.”

  “When I met you at the party that night,” Chelsea cut in, “you said you were going to night school studying medicine or something. Was that true?”

  “To a point. I do study a bit of medicine and genetic engineering, but not officially.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I’m studying for my own benefit, looking for some answers to some things that I won’t get into tonight.”

  “Okay, continue with your story. Sorry to interrupt.” Chelsea lit yet another smoke and waited for Travis to pick up where he’d left off. She was chain smoking tonight, but she didn’t really care. And Travis didn’t seem to mind at all.

 

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